


(You've Blown It All) Sky High

by Creej



Series: Shattered World [1]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Infidelity, Pre-Slash, some harsh language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Peter's world is turned inside out and upside down when he discovers a secret that Elizabeth is keeping.





	(You've Blown It All) Sky High

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by Jigsaw
> 
> This fic involves infidelity. If you love the whole Peter/El dynamic, you may want to pass on this story.

Peter didn't know when the doubts began niggling in the back of his mind. Maybe it was when he caught sight of her at a somewhat intimate cafe with another man. He brushed it off, thinking she was just meeting with a client.

The doubt grew over the following months as she kept claiming a busy workload but he'd occasionally see her coming out of one restaurant or another on the arm of a man and looking at him with an expression that definitely had nothing to do with business.

One day, on a hunch, he stopped by her offices. "Hey Yvonne? Just wanted to make sure El's schedule's free," he said. "I was hoping to surprise her this weekend."

"Sounds romantic," Yvonne said, bringing up the schedule. "Mmm, no, no events until next week," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," Peter said, returning the smile. "Not a word, okay?"

"Of course not," Yvonne said.

 

He knew it was silly, even paranoid, suspecting his wife but he couldn't make the doubts go away. He briefly considered the idea of having Neal tail her but dismissed it - if his suspicions proved false, he'd never hear the end of Neal telling him he was an idiot. He couldn't do it himself, with work and all so he dismissed it altogether. He shoved the suspicions to the back of his mind - things were fine, his marriage was as strong as ever. Elizabeth was just busy now that the business was really taking off.

However, the doubts came rushing back, full blown, when Elizabeth told him she had an event that weekend and she would be late getting home so don't wait up.

"What time will you be back?" Peter asked.

"You know how these thing can get," Elizabeth said as she applied her make up. "Could last until midnight or later." She finished and turned to give him a light kiss. "Gotta go," she said. "I've got new people setting up and I should supervise."

"All right," Peter said with a smile he didn't feel. "Have fun."

 

He sat in the near dark, ignoring the case files he'd brought home, thinking. Elizabeth had lied to him, lied to his face. How long had it been going on? He flashed back to seeing her in that cafe, thinking she'd been meeting with a client. but he realized he'd seen her with the same man multiple times, looking at him like...a lover. He felt a brief flash of white hot, nearly overwhelming rage. It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to think. He wouldn't confront her - not yet, not until he had proof. His eyes went to the phone. Bug, he thought then on the heels of that, misuse of Bureau resources. But there were plenty of so called 'spy shops' in New York - he could get what he needed from any one of them.

It took almost a week but he got a bug for each handset in the house and one for her cell - planting that one had taken some doing but it wan't something he hadn't done before - just not with his wife. It felt wrong, spying on his wife but the doubts were too strong to ignore - his gut was screaming at him that something wasn't right. He also got lipstick cameras for each room in the house...including the bedroom, wondering if she'd be brazen enough to bring her...paramour into their bed. In the end, he installed the camera in spite of his misgivings. Last, he set it up so all recordings - video and audio - were transmitted to his personal laptop.

 

The day he got the first piece of proof, he almost trashed the kitchen. He'd been checking the audio daily and it was a week before he heard the telling phone call.

'Hello?'

'Elizabeth.'

'Michael.' There was no mistaking the warmth in her voice.

'I've missed you so much.'

'I know. Me too.'

'Is he around?'

There was a sigh. 'No, he's still at the office. Hard telling when he'll be back.'

'So I shouldn't come over? Please Elizabeth. I need to see you.'

'I feel the same way but I really don't think we should risk it.'

'You don't have any business out of town?'

Another sigh. 'Nothing on the horizon. Sorry.'

'No, don't be. I understand.' There was a pause. 'You're sure he doesn't suspect?'

A derisive snort. 'He doesn't. What with his nose buried in case files, he doesn't notice much else.'

'That's good. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.'

'Don't worry, I can handle him.'

'All right. Let me know when you can get away.'

'I will. See you soon.'

'Usual time and place?'

'I look forward to it...and maybe...'

'Please don't tease, Elizabeth.'

A warm, wicked laugh. 'All right...this time.'

'Good bye Elizabeth.'

'Michael.'

 

So, it had been going on for a while, long enough for them to have a usual time and place. Peter's hands gripped his glass, nearly shattering it, wishing he had someone to talk to, someone who could tell him how to deal with what was happening but his mind was a blank. Fortunately for him, Elizabeth was out of town - on legitimate business - and once again he found himself sitting in the dark, almost obsessively replaying that incriminating phone call. Though he had proof, some perversely hopeful part of him kept telling him it wasn't what it sounded like. His check of the video showed just Elizabeth and himself in the house, along with the occasional visit from Neal and, even more rarely, Mozzie. Almost as a protective reflex, his mind switched to agent mode and suggested a sting. Let Elizabeth think he was going out of town for a few days - a consult with the field office in Albany perhaps. That would ensure his absence for at least three days. Objectively he realized he'd have to remain in "agent mode" if he was to get through this with his sanity intact. Afterward...he'd deal with that when it came.

 

If he was tense over the next few days, Elizabeth didn't comment except to ask, "Anything wrong? Tough case?"

"Yeah, it's a thorny one," Peter said. "Guy's more slippery than we thought. And he's not just operating here in the city. We have evidence of activity in Albany that fits his M.O. Field office there asked for a consult, exchange of information."

"Who are you sending?" Elizabeth asked. "Diana? Jones?"

"They asked for me since I''m the case agent," Peter said, studying her surreptitiously. When she looked a bit put out, a bit resigned he had to give her points. Neal was right - she'd have made a hell of a con.

"When do you have to leave?"

"Tomorrow," Peter said then looked at her apologetically. "I might be a few days..."

"I understand," Elizabeth said. "I still remember all those times when you were chasing Neal. I'm not happy about it but I understand."

"I have to leave early in the morning so I'd better get my things together."

"I've got the dishes," Elizabeth said. "You go."

As he climbed the stairs, he wondered if she'd take the opportunity to call this Michael to give him the all clear or if she'd wait until he was out of the house. As he packed for his trip - to a hotel near the office - he brought up the program that allowed him to listen to the bug's transmission. He wasn't really surprised when he heard ringing followed by the click of someone answering.

'Michael? How would you like to spend a few days with me? Here at the house.'

Brazen, Peter thought.

'Are you sure?'

'He has to go up to Albany for a few days. He's leaving in the morning. It'll be safe.'

'Well, I _would_ like to see you in your element...perhaps make love to you...'

'Now who's teasing?'

'What time tomorrow?'

'I'll be home by six so...seven?'

'Seven it is. Can't wait.'

'I'll make it worth your while.'

There was a click and the call ended. Peter shut down his laptop and finished his packing on autopilot. He didn't think he could sleep in the same bed as her, beside her after this revelation. He wondered when it had all become a lie...and wondered what he'd done to cause it. To cover his reticence, he buried himself in case files, knowing Elizabeth wouldn't find it unusual. She didn't, going to bed at her usual time after giving him a quick, almost perfunctory kiss.

 

He never made it to bed, he just couldn't bring himself to lay next to her, knowing what she had planned. Near dawn, he crept upstairs, pausing to watch her sleeping peacefully - innocently - in the bed they'd shared for almost fifteen years, knowing another man would be there, taking his place while he was gone. He wanted to rage, to yell and scream...to get violent. Instead, he retrieved his clothes and suitcases and changed in the guestroom. Before he left, he gave Elizabeth one last look and noticed the slight smile. Was she dreaming about him or this Michael?

 

He just had time to check into the hotel and grab a cup of coffee before he had to be at the office, determinedly putting Elizabeth and Michael out of his mind - if he dwelled on it, the work would suffer. His people - especially Neal - would notice if he was distracted.

 

Neal. For some reason the thought of the ex conman centered him. He'd been worried Neal would disappear when the anklet came off for the last time but he'd surprised almost everyone when he'd elected to stay with the Bureau as a full fledged civilian consultant, stay as part of Peter's team. He still got up to his usual hijinks but they were on the right side of the law now. In addition to consulting on cases, he held casual, sometimes impromptu classes on various cons, showing both veteran and newly fledged agents what to look for. In light of Elizabeth's...extramarital activities, he finally admitted to himself he felt a bit of an attraction to his friend and partner. He indulged himself for a few minutes, observing Neal at his desk. Currently the other man was in the midst of a fairly interesting fraud case, a slight frown marring his brow as he paged through the file and made notes. Peter had no doubt Neal would have the case cracked by the end of the day. With a sigh, he went back to his own stack of cases, letting the progression of numbers occupy his thoughts.

He was startled by a light knock on the door and looked up to see Neal lounging against the frame and a smile touching his mouth.

"Hey, ready to get out of here?' Neal asked. "Everyone else is gone or is about to leave."

Peter closed the file with a sigh. "Yeah," he said. "More than ready actually." He stood, slipping on his suit jacket. "I could use a drink. How about you?"

"Elizabeth?"

"She's...busy," Peter said, reaching for his briefcase.

Neal cocked his head slightly, noting the faint lines of strain around the agent's eyes, the slight hesitation in his answer, the way he hunched a little at the mention of his wife. "Peter? Everything okay?" he asked, his concern evident.

"Yeah, fine," Peter said, brows raised innocently. "She has an event tonight. Won't be back until late. Come on, I'm done with the glass walls of my office for today."

"If you need to talk...you know I'm here for you, right?" Neal said.

"I appreciate it," Peter said with a more genuine smile. "But I"m fine."

Neal studied him a moment then straightened and returned the smile. "So, who's buying?" he asked.

"Well, I invited you unless my memory's going," Peter said as they walked through the nearly empty bullpen.

"So I can order top shelf?" Neal asked a little teasingly as they waited for the elevator.

"I expected you would anyway," Peter said. "So I'm prepared."

"Feeling generous, I see," Neal said.

"I do that on occasion, you know."

"I know," Neal said, the teasing note gone from his voice.

"No getting mushy on me, okay?" Peter said but softened the words with a small smile.

 

Peter stashed his briefcase, holster and gun in the car and they walked to a hole in the wall bar close to the office and were soon ensconced in a booth as they waited for their drinks.

"You're sure you're all right?" Neal asked. "You seemed...distracted today."

"I don't know what you mean," Peter said as a server brought their drinks.

"Peter, it's _me_ ," Neal said. "I can tell. I can read you better than anyone except Elizabeth." Again he saw the slightly hunched shoulders at the mention of Elizabeth. And even in the dim light of the bar, he saw what he could only describe as pain in the other man's eyes. "Peter? Talk to me."

Peter scrubbed his face, silently cursing the fact that Neal was so damned observant. Taking a deep swallow of his drink - single malt Scotch - he said, "I'm pretty sure Elizabeth's having an affair. In fact, I'm almost positive."

"An affair?" Neal asked, his disbelief obvious. "She wouldn't. You two are solid."

"Apparently not," Peter said and slowly, haltingly told him the story - from his first sighting of her with an unknown man, to his bugging his own house to the phone calls he had recorded. "So I told her I had to go to Albany for a few days, for a consult. She wasted no time in calling this Michael to tell him." He glanced at his watch. "He's probably on his way to the house right now."

"What will you do?"

Peter heaved a somewhat shaky breath, blinking back the tears that threatened. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I just...don't know."

"Where are you staying?"

"I have a room at that hotel a few blocks away," Peter said.

"Forget that," Neal said. "You're staying with me...for as long as you need."

"I shouldn't," Peter said. "I don't want to impose...cramp your style."

"You know the hours I work," Neal said. "Besides, I'm not involved with anyone and it's no imposition. I promise." Without thinking, he grasped Peter's hand. "Let me help. Please. It's no more than you've done for me."

Peter looked down at their hands, feeling something twist in his chest, a warmth spreading through him until his fingertips tingled. He didn't want to let go but he pulled back anyway. "Thanks," he said. "I really don't want to be alone right now. I need to stay...occupied, keep from thinking about it."

"Anything I can do to help, just ask," Neal said. He took a sip of his own drink then stood. "Excuse me a minute. Nature calls." He took a step then leaned in. "And I'm buying. Get shit faced if you need to, okay?"

 

Neal pulled out his phone as he walked back to the short hallway where the restrooms were located. Hitting the second predial, he silently asked Peter's forgiveness. "Moz, up to doing me a favor?"

"Illegal?"

"Semi legal I suppose," Neal said as the door closed behind him. "But it has to stay on the downlow."

"What do you need?"

"Stake out Peter's house, get pictures of everyone who comes and goes," Neal said. "Especially men."

There was silence on the other end. "Neal...explain."

Neal sighed. "Peter's sure Elizabeth is having an affair. I want to find out with who."

"Mrs. Suit...cheating on the Suit," Moz said slowly. "Not possible. She wouldn't."

"He said he has recordings," Neal said. "And he's pretty sure this dirtbag is on the way to the house as we speak."

"What about the Suit?"

"Elizabeth thinks he's in Albany for a few days," Neal said. "But he'll be staying with me."

"All right," Moz said a bit reluctantly. "I think he's imagining things but I'll do it."

 

When Neal returned to the booth, he found Peter with a full glass and wondered how many he'd managed to drink in the short time he'd been gone. A closer look told him Peter was still sober - his eyes were clear though a bit red around the rims, his hand steady as he drank. "How are you doing?" he asked as he slid in across from the other man.

"All things considered..." Peter stopped. blinking rapidly for a few seconds. "I feel like shit. I keep wondering what I did to cause this."

"You didn't do anything, Peter," Neal said. "Yeah, you get a bit too involved with the job sometimes but a lot of men do and their wives don't cheat on them."

"Maybe if I..."

"Peter, stop," Neal said. "You're a good man and I honestly can't understand why Elizabeth would even think of cheating on you." He paused. "Are you _sure_?"

"I still have the audio on my laptop," Peter said. "Tell me what you think after you hear it."

"And the video? You said you have cameras..."

"Just me, Elizabeth, you, Moz occasionally," Peter said.

"Every room? Or just the living room?"

"Full coverage," Peter said. "Even the bedroom. Elizabeth can get...adventurous." He sighed, fiddling with his glass. "I know it sounds fucked up but...I still love her," he said softly.

"Doesn't sound that way at all," Neal said. "That's why it hurts so much. If you didn't love her, you wouldn't really care, would you?"

"I suppose not," Peter said.

"So, another or are you good?" Neal asked.

"I think I've had enough," Peter said. "As tempting as it is, getting drunk won't help anything."

"Okay then," Neal said. "We'll stop by your hotel, get your things and go to my place." When Peter started to object, he added, "I insist. Like you said, you shouldn't be alone right now." He paid their tab and led Peter back to the car, his hand laid comfortingly on the small of his back.

It didn't take long for Peter to get his things since he hadn't had time to unpack and soon they were on their way to June's, where Neal still occupied the loft.

Once inside, Peter set up his laptop on the table and called up the relevant phone calls. He started the playback and wandered out to the terrace - he'd heard them already, he didn't need to again. He gazed out at the familiar view, recalling all the times he'd spent there with Neal, especially that memorable all-nighter at the very beginning of the music box fiasco. He glanced to the side as Neal stood next to him.

"I am so sorry Peter," Neal said softly.

Tears stung Peter's eyes. Neal was better - the best he knew - at reading verbal cues. If Neal thought the affair was real and not a figment of his necessarily suspicious mind then it was real. His wife was cheating on him.

Peter's knees buckled but Neal prevented his collapse, easing him down into a chair and held his mentor, his partner, his friend as the older man broke down with harsh, wracking sobs, ignoring the slight pain when Peter's fingers dug into his back. Pert of him understood Peter's pain in an admittedly abstract way - Kate's death had left him devastated - and Peter was facing a similar loss, that of his marriage to a woman he'd loved for a decade and a half.

Finally the storm passed and Peter sat back, exhausted. As he finished collecting himself, Neal went inside and got a damp cloth so Peter could clean himself up. But when Peter reached for it, Neal stopped him and gently wiped the remains of his tears away, half expecting some snarky comment as he did. Instead, he received a grateful smile.

"Better?"

Peter took a shuddering breath and nodded. "Thank you," he whispered.

"It's okay," Neal said. "Anything you need." He urged Peter up with a hand on his elbow and steered him inside, toward the bed. "You've had a...rough day. Get some sleep."

"I can take the couch..."

"I'll take the couch tonight then ask June if she has a cot stashed somewhere," Neal said. As Peter began removing tie and shirt, Neal went through the suitcases until he found a pair of sleep pants and an old T-shirt, letting out a breath when Peter retreated to the bathroom to change. Privately, he admitted he would have enjoyed the view but knew now wasn't the time - Peter was hurting from Elizabeth's betrayal. He would do whatever he could to help his friend through it but he couldn't really understand his pain since, as far as he knew, Kate had remained faithful.

"Well, there's always the internet," he said to himself and pulled out his won laptop. As he fired it up, he noticed movement on the screen of Peter's and watched, somewhat unwillingly, as Elizabeth led a rather tall, distinguished looking man up the stairs of the Burke house, her expression and body language leaving no doubt she was aroused. The fact that they practically stripped each other on the way up was also a major clue. He switched feeds, relieved when he heard the shower come on - this was the last thing Peter needed to see right now.

From the view on the screen, Neal calculated where the camera was placed. Even if Elizabeth had been looking for it, she wouldn't have found it and it showed the bed in its entirety - the bed where Elizabeth was now naked, riding a man who definitely wasn't her husband.

Seeing her cuckold his best friend, in his bed, Neal felt a wave of pure hatred. He'd liked her almost from the minute they'd met - him just out of prison, her at the door, welcoming him inside...but now, with evidence of her callous betrayal playing out before him, he felt moved to violence. Disgusted, he shut the laptop rather harder then necessary. What surprised him was how his hands were shaking and the tears that stung his eyes. Ever since the chase, when he knew Peter was on his tail, he'd had a deep respect for the other man despite the fact that his job was to lock him up. He didn't resent Peter for that - he understood. Peter had out-thought him and had won their cat and mouse game - his reward: Neal behind bars. But that respect had changed to something more over the course of their partnership despite the ups and downs, the breaking and rebuilding of trust. He still respected Peter but he admitted it went deeper now. If it wasn't love, it wouldn't take much before it was.

"You are such an _idiot_ ," he whispered fiercely to an absent Elizabeth . "How could you _do_ this to him?" His hands itched to hit the man in Peter's bed, to hit Elizabeth for inviting him there, for betraying one of the finest men Neal had ever had the pleasure of knowing, one he was proud to call friend. He was pulled from his thoughts by his phone. Moz.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it," Moz said. "There was one man who acted entirely too friendly to be a business associate."

"Yeah, I saw," Neal said. "More than I wanted to."

There was a pause on the other end. "There's video too?" Moz asked.

"Yeah, full coverage of the house, up and down," Neal said. "Streaming and recording to Peter's laptop."

"How is he?"

Neal smiled faintly, hearing the genuine concern in Moz's voice. Moz may profess dislike for Peter but Neal knew it was mostly for show. "He's...better. We went out, had a few drinks, he had something of a breakdown on the terrace..."

"Understandable," Moz said. "He hasn't seen anything...?"

"No and I'm not going to let him," Neal said. "The phone calls are bad enough."

"When I ID this...this interloper, I'll let you know."

"Thanks Moz."

Just then, Peter emerged, looking better but still tired and a little lost. Neal understood. The bedrock of Peter's world had cracked beneath him and his footing was uncertain, precarious and he was trying desperately not to fall. It was exactly how he'd felt when Kate's plane had exploded.

"You're sure?" Peter asked, indicating the bed.

"Positive," Neal said. "Go on." When Peter slid between the sheets, he dimmed the lights and took his laptop out onto the terrace, angling his chair so he could keep an eye on Peter. He was determined to help him through this crisis and he reasoned there must be some sort of support group for those going through the same thing. He thought for a moment then typed a query into the search bar, heartened and saddened by the number of results. He checked out more than a dozen before finding one that he thought would help most - it was anonymous except for user names (some descriptive, some creative), one forum dedicated to those in Peter's current situation and another - surprisingly - to those who were or had been in Elizabeth's. He chose a discussion thread in the former and began reading, absorbing the information as he always did, glancing occasionally at Peter in case of nightmares or restlessness. After finishing the original thread, he started another then another - all seemed to say essentially the same thing - the affair was in no way the fault of the betrayed partner. Having an affair was a unilateral decision by one partner to open the marriage and bring in a third party...and keep it secret. He closed the laptop and sat thinking. He knew Peter was reluctant to discuss personal issues but he was sure that this forum could help him navigate the waters he now found himself in. The problem was convincing Peter to give it a chance.

 

In the bed, Peter lay awake, unable to shut his mind down enough to sleep - his thoughts on what Elizabeth was doing at that moment, what she was doing to him, thoughts of the past and his uncertain future kept chasing each other like rats in a maze. Finally, with a deep sigh, he sat up, scrubbing his face.

"Can't sleep?" Neal asked quietly from the table.

"I can't stop thinking..."

"I imagine it _is_ a major mindfuck," Neal said.

"I just feel...so alone..."

"You're not though," Neal said. "You've got me and..." He paused, wondering how to broach the idea he had. He decided on direct - that usually worked best with Peter. "I did some research and I found something I think will help if you give it a chance." He opened his laptop and brought up the website before sitting beside Peter on the bed. "No one needs to know who you really are," he said. "In fact, they discourage giving personal details outside those related to the situation." He laid a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I know you don't like looking vulnerable, Peter. I know you like maintaining that air of invincibility and strength but you're hurting right now. These people..." He gestured at the screen. "They _know_."

"I'll think about it," Peter said. He reached up and squeezed the hand that Neal still had on his shoulder. "Thanks." He looked uncertain for a moment. "Would you...?"

"Of course," Neal said, understanding what Peter was asking. He couldn't help the little thrill that ran through him as he lay down next to Peter and pulled the other man into his arms despite the slight strangeness - Peter was usually the protector, the comforter, the strong one but the situation was not usual. It was with a sense of relief that he heard Peter's breathing even out into sleep.

 

Mozzie sat in his "cab", laptop open in front of him. When Neal had told him that Peter had installed cameras in the house he set about hacking into the feed. He reviewed what had already been recorded, his lip curling in disgust at the sheer...wantonness of Elizabeth's behavior. He might claim dislike for Peter but he genuinely liked and respected the man, knowing how much he'd helped Neal over the years, especially after he'd lost Kate. It was obvious to Moz - to anyone really - that Peter really cared about Neal. And Moz couldn't dislike that.

At the moment, he was watching Elizabeth and her lover eat breakfast, the scene so domestic it almost made him sick. The man acted as if he had every right to be there, that he belonged there. He switched feeds, seeing the rumpled bed, the towels scattered in the bathroom, the jacket draped over the chair in the living room. He shut down the feed - he'd seen enough. Unfortunately, he was no closer to finding the man's identity that he was when Neal asked him to do this - a fact that irritated him more than he'd ever admit. He looked up as movement caught his eye. And there was the man himself, emerging from the Burke house. Moz watched closely as he strolled down the street and got into a late model Mercedes, memorizing the plate almost reflexively. He smirked. Now he had somewhere to start. But first...

Elizabeth hummed to herself as she cleared the breakfast dishes, her mind on the previous night's activities - and miles away from her husband. Her good mood was broken when the phone rang and she heard, "You cheating bitch!"

"Who is this?"

"Never mind. I know exactly what you're doing. You're throwing away a good man and for what? To scratch an itch? A mid life crisis? You have no idea what you're going to lose if you continue with this...this _indecency._ "

Before she could respond, the line went dead. She stood, thinking furiously. They'd been careful, so careful that she was sure no one knew, no one suspected. She'd even gone so far as to remove her wedding ring when she and Michael were in public. Peter, she knew, was clueless. She almost felt guilty at how easily she was able to fool him, to manipulate him - the man was so head over heals in love with her it had blinded him to what she was doing. So who had been on the phone, calling her out? Finally, she came to the conclusion that it had to have been a wrong number. No one knew. She was absolutely sure of it.

 

Moz disconnected and set the voice changer aside, tamping down the anger he still felt. To think he'd counted her as a friend. Admittedly, it had been mostly because of Neal in the beginning but he'd grown to like her without that association. He was finished here for the time being. He'd called her out, put her on notice that her secret wasn't so secret any more. It being Tuesday, he made his way to Wednesday where, conveniently, his darkroom was located. He set that aside for the moment and navigated his way through the DMV database until he found who he was looking for. Elizabeth's man on the side was one Michael Benton, CEO of a small but up and coming tech business and an address in a respectable part of Manhattan. Once he wrote down the relevant information, he retreated to his darkroom.

 

"Sleep well?" Neal asked, handing Peter a mug of coffee as he emerged from the bathroom.

"Better than I have in a while," Peter admitted as he sat at the table. "Honestly, it's the first time I've slept in a bed since I heard that first phone call." His gaze dropped to the mug in his hands. "I just couldn't...couldn't pretend." He let out a breath. "I'm not as good a con as you were."

"Were?" Neal inquired a little teasingly. "Hey, I've still got it," He was rewarded when Peter's mouth quirked in a smile. It faded quickly but Neal was still happy to see it. He hated seeing Peter look so lost and broken...it wasn't the Peter he admitted he was falling for. "So, plans?"

"Work, keep occupied..." Peter said, shrugging.

"I have a better idea," Neal said. "We play hooky today. The team can do without you for one day."

"Neal..."

"There are other ways to say occupied other than sitting in that fishbowl of an office, staring at files you probably won't see anyway," Neal said. He leaned forward a little, his expression understanding. "I've been there Peter," he said. "How do you think I felt after Kate died? Lost, devastated, no idea how to move forward." He paused, resisting the urge to take the man's hand. "But you got me through it," he said. "And I'm going to get you through this." He cocked his head a little, seeing something more than gratitude in Peter's eyes but didn't comment. He refused to pursue that other emotion because Peter was in the midst of a crisis and he couldn't be sure the feeling was genuine.

 

Being almost endlessly inventive, Neal managed to keep Peter occupied, even managed to coax a few smiles which he counted as a major win. Near the end of the day, he got a text from Moz telling him to expect a package. As promised, he was handed a large manila envelope when they returned to June's. He motioned for Peter to continue up to the loft before opening it. Inside was a sheaf of photos showing Elizabeth and the man Moz had identified as Michael Benton in almost explicit intimacy. Once again, Neal felt the burn of rage on Peter's behalf and he had to force himself not to shred the photos he held. He took a few moments to calm himself and slid the photos back into the envelope, his mind busy with plans on how to use them as he climbed the stairs.

"Feeling better?" he asked, joining Peter at the terrace doors.

"A little," Peter said. "thanks...for today. It means a lot."

"I was glad to do it," Neal said. "I told you, I'm here for you. I'll help you get through this as best I can."

Peter gripped Neal's arm, feeling a wash of gratitude...and something else he wasn't ready to put a name to just yet. Unthinkingly, he ran his hand up Neal's arm to his shoulder and was on the verge of pulling him close when he was stopped.

"Peter..." Neal struggled for words, knowing what his friend wanted, what he was asking. And he wanted to give him the kind of comfort Peter seemed to need...but he couldn't. Not without potentially having their friendship go up in flames. "I...I can't...not now," he said, nearly whispering. "You're too raw...and I don't want to risk what we already have."

Peter gave him a small smile, almost rueful and squeezed his shoulder before dropping his hand. "Sorry, I shouldn't have..."

Neal averted his gaze. "It's not that I don't want to," he said in that same near whisper. "It's just...if we did...I'd always feel that I...took advantage of you...of the situation. Maybe, once you're stronger...we can see where it goes." When he met Peter's eyes, he saw gratitude and understanding...and pride. In him. Then Peter said something that rocked Neal back on his heels.

"Why couldn't I have met you before Elizabeth?"

"Damn, you're going to make this hard, aren't you?" Neal asked with a shaky laugh. "You know my impulse control..."

"Your impulse control is fine," Peter said. "It's mine that needs some work. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable..."

"No...God no," Neal said. He huffed out a breath and pulled Peter into a determinedly platonic hug, holding a moment as he said softly, "She doesn't deserve you." Then let him go so they could compose themselves. "I think you should call Elizabeth and tell her you need to stay in Albany for a few more days," he said.

Peter looked at him with an odd combination of hurt, confusion and sharpness. "And give her more time with...with..."

Neal gave in to the urge to take Peter's hand. "To give _you_ more time," he said. "You're not ready to face her yet. I don't think you will be for a while." He tilted his head a little. "What are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"Your marriage," Neal said. "According to my research, it's possible for a marriage to come back from this." He ignored Peter's huff of disbelief and went on. "But the choice is yours. You decided if you stay married just as she decided to bring this other man in."

"I'm not sure I can ever trust her after this," Peter said. "Sneaking around, lying to me. For all I know, he's sleeping - or _not_ sleeping - in my bed, taking my place."

Neal said nothing. He'd caught a bit more than a glimpse of what Elizabeth and her lover had done in the marital bed and he wasn't about to tell Peter.

 

Elizabeth groaned when the phone rang and she extricated herself from Michael's embrace. "Hold that thought," she said, reaching for the handset next to the couch. "Burke residence."

"Just calling to let you know I'll be stuck in Albany for a few more days."

Elizabeth grinned but her tone was disappointed. "And here I was hoping I'd have my husband home soon," she said. "I've gotten used to having you around most of the time in the last few years...well, at least since you caught Neal."

"I'm sorry. It was unexpected, not to mention they're down a man up here."

"Any idea when you'll be home?"

"Not sure. I'll let you know when I know."

"Okay. Love you hon."

"Love you too."

"What?" Michael asked, pulling Elizabeth on top of him. "You look...pleased."

"Peter's stuck in Albany a few more days," Elizabeth said, running a finger over his mouth. "So that means..."

"We have more time," Michael finished. "Well, I've got plans for you..." He claimed her mouth in a kiss which she eagerly returned.

 

Peter's grip on the phone tightened and Neal gently extracted it from his hand. "And you say you're not that good a con," he said.

They'd both watched the streaming footage as Peter made the call, both had seen Elizabeth's delight when learning she had a few more days without her husband disrupting her activities.

"I'll kill him," Peter said.

Neal set the phone aside and closed the laptop. "he's not worth it," he said. "You're a better man than that. Now, what are you going to do. The choice is yours?"

"Does Moz handle divorces?"

"I think you might want to go with someone more...reputable," Neal said.

Peter pulled himself together with some effort. "So, I'm a better con than I thought?" he asked.

"Being something of an expert in the field, I'd have to say I doubt I could have done better," Neal said. He regarded the other man for a moment, a smile touching his lips. "If it'll help keep your mind off this, I could go back to a life of crime..."

"After all the work we put in, keeping you on the straight and narrow...don't you dare." Peter smiled softly. "But I appreciate the thought."

 

Neal waited down the street from the Burke house, waiting for a text from Moz to let him know when Elizabeth was alone. Ten minutes later, it came through and he got out of the car, damping down his anger as he walked up to the door. He resisted the impulse to break it down and rang the bell, clutching the photos.

"Neal! Hi! Come in!" Elizabeth said, stepping aside. She saw his glower and frowned. "Neal?"

"How could you?" Neal hissed, his disgust and rage obvious. He tossed the pictures on the coffee table and Elizabeth's eyes first widened in surprise then narrowed as she met his gaze.

"You have no idea what it was like for me," she said, her voice low and intense. "Fifteen years, Neal. Fifteen years of him being obsessed with the job, getting blown off, brushed aside because he couldn't let go of a case. I got tired of it and found someone who'll give me what I need."

"He loved you Elizabeth," Neal said heatedly. "And you repay him by tearing his heart out, stomping on it, _destroying_ him and putting hm through ten kinds of hell." He advanced on her. "Yeah, he knows, has for a while," he said. "You may have fooled me, fooled Moz but you couldn't fool that near infallible gut. He _knew_ something was wrong and he found out." He looked her over, his gaze insulting. "I've known some of the worst of humanity but even the murderers and thieves in supermax wouldn't stoop to your level, do what you did. Now, here's what's going to happen: Peter is going to file for divorce and you will _not_ contest the terms. You'll stay away from his salary, his pension, anything he has of value. If you try _anything_ either Moz or I deem underhanded, I'll make sure those pictures go public as well as the story behind them. In short, I'll wreck your business and your reputation. Then we'll see how long Michael sticks around. My bet is he'll drop you once he finds out you don't have to sneak around." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm intimately acquainted with the thrill of the illicit, remember?"

"Michael loves me," Elizabeth said fiercely.

"Keep telling yourself that if it lets you sleep at night," Neal said. "I doubt you know what love - real love - is." He stepped back. "Either me or Moz will be by to get the reat of PEter's things in the next week or so."

"He can get his own things."

"I'm not letting him step foot in this house," Neal said. "Not until he's ready. I won't allow you to hurt him more than you have already." His voice softened a little, lost some of the steel. "It's my turn to take care of him, protect him like he's done for me and I'll do it gladly."

"You can have him," Elizabeth nearly spat as Neal reached the door.

"You don't deserve him," Neal said. "I doubt you ever did. But here's something to think about - if Michael will cheat with you, he'll probably cheat on you. In fact, I'd almost bet on it." The last thing he heard from Elizabeth was a strangled scream of anger, muffled by the door as he closed it.

 

Three years later...

 

"How are you feeling?" Neal asked, handing a cup of coffee to Peter as he took a seat. It was the same question he'd asked almost every morning since he'd witnessed Peter's breakdown upon learning of Elizabeth's affair.

"I'm fine," Peter said. "It's still hard sometimes but not like it was." He dropped his gaze a moment. "I have you to thank for a lot of it."

"You helped me after I lost Kate," Neal reminded him. "I couldn't do anything less for you." To lighten the mood, he asked, "So, are you thinking about going to...what do they call it? A get together?"

"I'd like to," Peter said. "It would be nice to put faces to names but it depends on our caseload."

"You _do_ have vacation days, you know," Neal said.

"Want me out of your hair??" Peter asked, amused.

"No one I'd rather have there," Neal said. This time, when Peter reached for him, he didn't pull back, accepting the caress.

"I love you, Neal," Peter said softly.

"Like a son? A brother?" Neal asked a little unsteadily.

"You know what I mean," Peter said, watching Neal's eyes darken when he brushed a finger over his lips.

"I'd never...Elizabeth..." Neal whispered incoherently but Peter understood.

"I know," Peter said. "I don't think you have it in you. I've known for years how fiercely loyal you are, how fiercely you love..."

It was Neal who leaned forward and brushed his lips hesitantly over Peter's, as if testing and Peter responded with a chaste kiss. "I can wait," he said softly. "I've waited years, I can wait a little longer."

"I know and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long," Peter said.

"As long as you need," Neal said. "I'm not going anywhere."

 

Meanwhile, Elizabeth had just opened her offices and set her bag aside when the door opened. "Just a minute please," she called as she put her bag in her desk. Smoothing her dress, she went out to the main office, stopping short when she saw who'd come in. "Michael," she said stiffly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm throwing a party to celebrate my company going public," Michael said. "I'd like you to organize it."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked a bit skeptically. "After you just dumped me when my ex found out about us? I lost my marriage because of you."

"You weren't exactly blameless yourself, Elizabeth," Michael said. "You were a willing participant."

"So it was just the thrill of the illicit for you," Elizabeth said, recalling what Neal had said when he'd confronted her on Peter's behalf.

"That was part of it," Michael said with a slight shrug. "Nothing's more tempting than forbidden fruit. So...the party. Are you interested?"

"Find someone else," Elizabeth said. "I'm not interested." She turned to leave but paused when Michael spoke again.

"Are you sure you can afford to turn down the business? It's my understanding that you have fewer clients than before."

Elizabeth turned to face him. "You worry about your company, I'll worry about mine. Deal?"

"Suit yourself," Michael said. Giving her a brief nod, he added, "Good day."

Elizabeth let out a breath and returned to her office, calling up her schedule. Michael had had a point - if business didn't improve soon, she wouldn't have the luxury of turning down clients. If Neal or Moz were responsible for her business difficulties, she couldn't prove it, but since her divorce, prospective clients had been hard to find, established clients were looking elsewhere and were reluctant to give referrals. To top it off, on the rare occasions she'd seen Peter, he'd seemed happier, more carefree than she remembered. Some sixth sense made her look outside and she saw Neal and Peter go past, Peter laughing at something Neal had said and saw Neal's answering grin...as well as the familiar hand on Peter's arm. Unexpectedly, she felt a surge of jealousy - it should be _her_ with Peter, not Neal, _her_ that Peter looked at with affection...with love. Before she realized what she was doing, she hurried outside, calling their names. She didn't know what she expected when they turned to face her but it wsn't their neutral expressions, though she did see a hint of anger in Neal's.

"Elizabeth," Peter said carefully.

"I just...I just wanted to know if you could ever forgive me," Elizabeth said hesitantly. "I never meant..."

"Didn't you?" Peter asked. "You knew who I was when we got married but you decided what? I wasn't good enough? Not what you wanted? You had three choices Elizabeth: talk to me, ask for a divorce or cheat. You chose door number three. And yes, it was _your choice_. I didn't make you, didn't force you, didn't threaten you. _You_ chose to make our marriage an open one and decided I didn't need to know about it. As for whether I can forgive you...I'm working on it. But not for your benefit. For mine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to be getting back to the office. Major case."

 

"You've come a long way," Neal commented as they continued to the office. "Even a year ago, you wouldn't have been so calm, I think."

"Well, I had a lot of help." Peter said. "From you most of all."

"I'm glad I could."

When they got close to their destination, Peter pulled him out of the flow of pedestrians and cupped his face. "Thank you," he said quietly then gave him a kiss that was less chaste than the ones before. Straightening, he said, "Now, let's go catch some bad guys."

"Well, that's what we do," Neal said, taking his arm. "Time to saddle up, Butch. Can't keep the gang waiting." He smiled, hearing the welcome sound of Peter's laughter as they went inside.

**Author's Note:**

> The website Neal describes to Peter actually exists. It is geared toward helping those affected by infidelity to heal from the pain caused by it. Those cheated on find they are not alone in their pain and they get the support they need to move forward. For those who cheat they get advice and guidance to become a better, safer partner for future relationships and a metaphorical slap upside the head when necessary.


End file.
